Page 59 of The Court of Venus

“For all your power, your reputation—how little you understand women. She’s desperate to win your favor, so she’ll talk.”

He sighed, scratching his neck. “If only I wasn’t so beautiful and didn’t inspire such fascination.” He peeked at me from beneath a strand of his hair, as if to see whether I would agree. Instead I began casting about inside his wardrobe.

He herded me away. “What are you doing?”

“If I’m to be you, I need your clothes. Where is that purple coat you always wear?”

Again he blocked me, and I danced around him. “Do you have a better plan?”

He leaned against one of the wooden posts of his bed, drumming his fingers against his leg. “Well, no. But why can’t I go myself?”

“Only I can see her memory of the inquiry.”

“Hmm.” He fiddled with the red embroidered hangings, threaded with his initials. “You won’t get too curious in my body, will you?” A smile flickered, his head tipped to the side as he studied me. “How do you plan to get her talking? Kitty likes flattery, and you’re not particularly skilled at that. No, you ought to have information for her in exchange. That’s what she’ll want. Then get out of there quickly.”

“Show me,” I said.

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Show me what to do. Pretend I’m her.”

I needed to get this exactly right: Roland’s particular expressions, the weight of his gaze, the silken quality of his voice. He tipped forward. “Show you what, exactly?”

“You stay there. I’ll go to the bed.”

He burst out laughing, then bit his lip. “Wouldn’t I knock on the door first?”

“Oh, yes.” I pointed to the doorway that led to his privy chamber. “Stand there.”

He shrugged off his heavy coat, draping it carefully over his chair, then undid the ties of his doublet.

I shifted so I wore Kitty’s face, changing nothing else about my appearance. He grimaced when he noticed my features. “Don’t do that. Just—just look like yourself, please.”

“Yes, all right.” I lay back, wondering what ladies-in-waiting like Kitty Seton would do when they were alone with a man. There was hardly any light in the bedchamber. Only flickering candles, the dying fire, the wavering smoke. I said his name slowly, savoring it. “I hoped you’d come.”

His mouth twitched. “I believe she would say something to the effect of ‘I was expecting you earlier.’ She was always rather demanding.”

“Is it important to say exactly what she would in this exercise?”

“I suppose not. Go on.” He gestured for me to continue.

“I was expecting you earlier. The entire banquet, you didn’t so much as glance at me.”

He crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed, and then my head was in his hands and he was pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I was being watched,” he murmured.

“By Cecily?”

“By everyone.” He lowered his lips to my neck, hovering there as my heart thundered.

How low his voice became; the intensity in it changed. He was fully awake. Like a nocturnal creature I’d never seen walk at night. Was this what it was like, to be under the light of his attention? I’d long imagined how it might feel but never understood the force of it.

I closed my eyes. “May I ask—”

“Shh.” Finally, his lips pressed against my throat, and I caught my own moan before releasing it. He smiled against my skin. “My very favorite thing is when you listen.”

I didn’t realize my mouth was wide open until I snapped it shut. Roland was at the very height of his powers on this bed. He knew how to use his eyes effectively, how to tug on a woman. His breath was hot and sweet, his hands assured on my body. His lips traveled along my collarbone, along the chain I’d wrapped around his lance. When he took the necklace in his mouth and tugged, my eyes shot open.

“Roland,” I said, and he laughed roughly, dropping it from between his lips.